Memories are Hell
by BondWoman007
Summary: It wasn't just the physical torture that made hell so horrible. In fact, Dean could safely say that it was the psychological torture that finally broke him. Rated T for language, torture, and abuse. hurt!Dean and possibly some hurt!Sam
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Ok, so the idea for this story just wouldn't leave me alone. Actually it was a couple of different ideas that I decided to try to weave together. Hopefully it makes sense and everyone enjoys it. To those of you who are reading my Providing Refuge story - I have not abandoned it. In fact, I am working on getting the next chapter published soon. I just couldn't get this plot to leave me alone so I had to write it.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story.**

**Warnings: There is some language and violence in this chapter. Nothing too graphic, but seeing as how torture is the overall theme, it is definitely there.**

_It wasn't just the physical torture that made hell so horrible. In fact, Dean could safely say that it was the psychological torture that finally broke him._

As Dean slowly became aware of his surroundings, he realized that the head-splitting sound he was hearing was the screams coming from his own mouth. He then became aware of the fact that he was in chains. Each of his limbs was chained to something though he wasn't sure what that something was as he couldn't feel a thing except for the chains. In fact, he couldn't even move an inch to try and explore his surroundings. The chains were pulled so tight that he could feel his muscles cramping in his shoulders and thighs and the only thing that he could move at all was his head. Unfortunately that wasn't the last thing to come to his attention. Apparently the screams currently ripping through his throat were caused by horribly large and somehow burning hot knives stuck in his forearms and thighs.

Dean's brain was very foggy. He tried to remember what type of supernatural being they were chasing last which could have captured him. Maybe it was some type of god? Or maybe he had pissed of some powerful demon; well, more than usual that is. And then he remembered. His heart stopped (or was it even beating in the first place?) as he remembered the hell hounds. He could almost feel their teeth tearing him apart once again. And he knew he was in hell.

He opened his eyes for the first time and decided he shouldn't have put in the effort. Apparently he was hanging in the middle of a giant, pitch-black space. He couldn't even see what the chains were attached to.

Suddenly, the knives started to burn even more, if possible, and then disappeared. Dean's screams slowly died down to an echo as he tried to gain some semblance of control over himself. And then he felt another presence close by. He couldn't see anyone or any_thing, _but he could definitely feel a presence. It almost felt as if someone were breathing down his neck.

"Well, well, look at the sweet morsel I have caught in my trap today. Dean Winchester in the flesh, for now at least." A cold, sneering voice stated and then chuckled seemingly directly behind him. However Dean still couldn't see anyone.

"What, are you such a little bitch that you are afraid of facing me?" Dean's bravado didn't come off quite as strong as he had hoped since his voice was rather hoarse from his earlier screams. However he was determined to deal with this situation the same way he dealt with all other less than positive situations. Plus, he was here for eternity so he might as well have as much fun as possible.

"On the contrary, Dean. It is you who is afraid of not being able to see your attacker. However, I will give in just this once so we can be properly introduced." With that, Dean felt the presence behind him begin to move around in front of him, but he still couldn't see anyone. Then, a figure slowly began to appear almost as if it was slowly taking shape. It became a man slightly taller than Dean with a long, angular face. He was smiling at Dean though his smile had more the look of a wolf baring its teeth at its prey. The most startling thing about him however, were his eyes which were glowing red.

"Now that you can see me, well at least see my favorite form, let me introduce myself. My name is Alastair and I am the demon chosen to be your welcoming committee here in hell." Alastair let out a quiet chuckle as he looked Dean over.

He didn't like the look in those red eyes. They seemed to have a blood-thirsty look to them. "I would offer to shake your hand, but I appear to be a bit tied up at the moment" Dean said sarcastically. The knife that stabbed into his stomach should've been expected, but Dean let out a loud gasp. He quickly bit down on his lip and swallowed the scream that wanted to come out.

Alastair laughed, "I do believe we are going to have quite a lot of fun, Dean. I can tell you know how to take pain and obviously that mouth of yours will provide me with a good laugh." At that another knife appeared in his hand.

Dean eyed the small knife the demon was holding in front of his eyes. He finally managed a shallow breath. "I would say go to hell, but as we are already there I don't think it would be quite as satisfying." He let his signature smirk appear on his face though it quickly turned to a grimace when Alastair slowly drew the knife across Dean's chest.

The next few hours were full of cutting and stabbing with all manner of knives. Dean tried to remain stoic but after an hour he couldn't hold the screams in any longer. By the time Alastair paused in his torture, Dean's throat was raw and there wasn't a single part of his body that wasn't covered in blood. He desperately wanted some water but figured that what with this being hell there was no chance he was even going to get a drop and he decided he wouldn't stoop so low as to start begging.

"So, how are we feeling? Did you enjoy your little welcome party?" Alastair laughed maniacally and stabbed Dean one more time in the arm for good measure. "Well, now that you have experienced what the rest of eternity can be like for you, I have an offer to extend. I will let you be free of the chains and you will no longer be my torture subject and you only have to agree to one thing. How does that sound to you?"

Dean worked to focus his gaze on the demon. "It depends on what that one thing is," he managed to croak.

"Oh yes, I suppose it does. Well, don't worry, I do not expect you to betray your family or anything. In fact, all you need to agree to do is welcome whatever new soul comes to hell and is placed before you. Really it is not a whole lot different from what you were doing topside. I mean, I know you had fun with some of those demons before sending them back so really it shouldn't be that difficult for you."

"You want me to become a torturer?" Dean spit out. "Like hell I will. Those bastards I hurt up there deserved what they got and I only did it when it was absolutely necessary. I sure as hell didn't do it just for giggles." Dean looked disgustedly at the demon.

"Well, well, well someone is high and mighty. Who do you think gets sent to hell? The young and the innocent? Every soul in here deserves what is coming to them. And unless you enjoy having me cut into you for the rest of eternity it will definitely be necessary."

"What, you think I can't handle a bit of torture? I have lived through worse than what you are doing to me now and there is no way a bitch like you is going to convince me to become like the things I was hunting." Dean scowled at the demon and then looked away, hoping it couldn't sense the fear that flooding through him. The last few hours definitely hadn't been a walk in the park and Dean didn't look forward to it continuing, but there was absolutely no way he would stoop to becoming this demon's personal torture companion.

"Oh, but that is where you are mistaken, Mr. Winchester. We have only gotten started. I have much worse planned for you. This was just a small introduction so we could get to know each other a little. I know all your fears and weaknesses. Tomorrow is going to be lots of fun." With that Alastair faded away and Dean no longer felt his presence.

He was worried about what new things the demon had planned for him tomorrow, but Dean decided he couldn't dwell on it. Instead, he thought about Sam and tried to imagine what he would be doing at this moment. He hoped that Sam would let him go and would try to find a way to settle down and have a normal life.

**AN: Thank you so much for checking this story out! Please let me know what you thought as this is my first story like this. Check back soon to find out what horrors Alastair has planned for Dean next... Muahahaha!**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: **Thank you to all of you who read my story and reviewed it, alerted it, or favorited it! You are why I write these :)

**Warnings: **There is some mild language and some child abuse in this chapter.

**Previously:**___"Oh, but that is where you are mistaken, Mr. Winchester. We have only gotten started. I have much worse planned for you. This was just a small introduction so we could get to know each other a little. I know all your fears and weaknesses. Tomorrow is going to be lots of fun." With that Alastair faded away and Dean no longer felt his presence._

_He was worried about what new things the demon had planned for him tomorrow, but Dean decided he couldn't dwell on it. Instead, he thought about Sam and tried to imagine what he would be doing at this moment. He hoped that Sam would let him go and would try to find a way to settle down and have a normal life._

When Dean came to he wasn't sure if he had fallen asleep or passed out or for how long he was out. He looked around a bit and realized everything appeared the same as it had the last time he was aware. Then he became aware of the pain. It didn't feel like any of his injuries from the torture session with Alastair had healed at all, but when he looked at the parts of his body he could see, there didn't seem to be even a single scrape. He figured there must be some demon power or something having to do with being in hell that prepared his body for more torture but didn't actually remove any of the pain. That definitely did not bode well for him.

Suddenly, he felt the presence behind him again which he knew now to be the presence of the demon. "Aha, you are awake again, good!" Alastair said almost gleefully.

"If you friggin think you are going to make me take your deal, you are crazier than you sound," Dean said with as much condescension as he could muster. With all the pain he was in, he didn't really want to anger the demon any more, but he figured seeing as how he was in hell pain was just a given and he might as well give as much crap as possible.

"Oh, I know you are going to take my deal. The only question is when. I have something a little different planned for you today so we will see what tune you're singing at the end of it."

"Buddy, there isn't a damn thing you can do to me that will make me betray what morals I have. I know I'm no saint, but there is no way in hell I will stoop as low as to torture others just to get out of a little pain myself." Dean spat at the demon, angry that it thought he could be broken so easily.

"Ah yes, I figured you would say something to that affect. However, as you will soon see, there are things I can do that are able to torture more than just the body." With that the demon reached out and touched Dean's temple. He felt searing hot pain shoot through his head and he screamed.

Suddenly, Dean noticed that the pain had stopped and he no longer felt the demon's presence. "_That can't be all that son of a bitch was planning on doing to me! I mean, it was no picnic but the pain hardly lasted long enough to force me to do anything. I wonder what he's up to." _Dean thought as he slowly regained his breath. He opened his eyes and realized that something was not right. He was no longer in hell, but something about this didn't feel quite normal either. He looked around at his surroundings and saw that he was sitting on a bed in a dumpy motel room which held two double beds, a small table with a single chair, and an old TV. There were a few old carry-out containers laying on the table and some clothes lying in a pile next to the bed he was on. At closer inspection the clothes appeared to belong to a small child.

Dean went to get off the bed and almost fell over when his feet didn't hit the floor like he was expecting. He looked down at himself and saw he was in a child's body. Actually, he was in his own body but it was a younger version of himself. Then, as the bathroom door opened, he figured out where he was. The demon had either sent him back in time or done something else weird like that because this was Sammy's fourth birthday and they were somewhere in Oklahoma.

"De, do you think Daddy's goin to bring me a present when he come back tonight?" Little Sammy asked as he walked out of the bathroom.

Dean couldn't remember if his dad had thought to give Sammy a present this year, but he figured he hadn't. "I don't know Sammy, I guess we'll see." Dean hoped that his dad did actually show up that night and that he at least remembered it was Sammy's birthday. Though knowing their dad, that was definitely not guaranteed.

Dean and Sam kept themselves busy watching TV and reading books for the next few hours while they waited for their dad to come back to the motel room. It was about five o'clock when Dean heard a noise by the door. He quickly grabbed for the gun that he knew would be under the bed and slowly walked towards the door, making sure he was between it and Sammy. A moment later he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and lowered the gun as their dad walked in.

"Daddy!" Sammy hollered happily and ran over to John who set down his bag and patted Sammy's head. "Daddy, did you bring me a present?" Sammy asked excitedly.

John frowned for a second and Dean could tell he had forgotten that it was Sammy's birthday "Sorry buddy, I didn't have time to pick one up. Maybe we can go get something extra special for dinner tonight." John then proceeded to grab a beer from his bag as well as his journal, sit down at the table, and beginning writing.

Sammy looked like he was about to cry so Dean quickly walked over to him and gave him a hug before whispering, "I have a present for you, but you have to be patient and wait until bedtime for it." Dean wasn't exactly sure what he would give Sammy, but he figured he could think of something before then. And if all else failed, he could find a way to steal something while they were out for dinner.

By eight o'clock, their dad still didn't show any signs of being down writing. Dean knew he didn't like getting interrupted, but Sammy was getting really hungry, not to mention tired, and their dad had promised to get Sammy a nice meal for his birthday. "Dad, are we going to get dinner soon? It's getting pretty late for Sammy."

"Dean, what have I told you about interrupting me while I'm writing? Be quiet and leave me alone! We'll go grab something quick when I'm done here." John said gruffly, not looking up from his journal.

"But, Dad, you told Sammy we would get a special dinner for him since it's his birthday. And we are getting really hungry." Dean had walked over to their dad and was trying to say this a bit quietly so Sammy wouldn't realize their dad had already forgotten about his birthday again. So he was startled when John quickly spun around in his chair and backhanded him across the face.

"Dean, you know better than to talk back to me. Go stand in the corner until I get this finished and we can have a talk about your disrespect."

Trying to hold back tears, Dean quickly walked over to an empty corner and stuck his nose in it. He was in shock. His dad had never hit before. Yeah, he had gotten plenty of spankings, but never before had his dad struck him like that. And then suddenly a rush of memories came flooding into his brain. Memories of his dad hitting him and kicking him. Memories of being beaten by a belt, or a switch, or anything else his dad could get his hands on, and Dean realized this was a version of himself from a different reality with a dad who was drunk and abusive not just a bit neglectful like his dad had been.

Dean's knees almost buckled as he realized what he was in for once John (he wasn't going to think of him as his dad cause he was practically a completely different man) got done writing. Normally, a talk with his dad usually meant a few hard swats and a stern talking to, but he was beginning to get the idea that this John meant a beating with his belt. He really was not looking forward to that, but the thought of standing here for hours waiting for it to come was not pleasant either. He almost hoped that John would get done writing soon and would just get it over with. Plus, he could hear Sammy quietly sniffling and he wanted to be able to comfort him and get him some supper.

Half an hour later Dean thought he was going to collapse or go crazy if he had to stand in the corner any longer. He hadn't heard Sammy for a little while and he hoped the kid had fallen asleep. A rustling noise caught his attention and he heard John putting his journal back in his bag. And then heavy footsteps came his way. Dean tried to take slow, deep breaths to keep himself from hyperventilating.

"Ok, boy. Time for your punishment. Come stand at attention." John ordered.

Dean quickly turned around and stood stiffly in front of John. "What were you thinking talking back to me, boy? You know I don't tolerate any type of disrespect and yet you decide it's a good idea to disregard my orders?" John yelled at Dean in his best marine voice.

"I'm sorry, sir. It's just that it is Sammy's birthday and I really wanted him to get a good dinner. Plus we were both really hungry and it was getting close to bed time. And Sammy was really disappointed that you didn't bring him a birthday present and.." Dean stopped as he realized that John was glaring down at him.

"You're brother is going to have to learn soon enough that we don't have the time or the money to worry about such little things as birthdays and presents. You should've told him not to be expecting anything and then he wouldn't have been disappointed."

"Yes, sir," Dean said as he looked down at the floor. He knew he would never say anything so mean to Sammy, but it wouldn't help his case to tell John that. Suddenly he felt John's hand connect with his face again and he fell back against the wall. "You look at me when I'm talking to you boy," John yelled. And then Dean heard him pulling his belt off. He cowered a little more into the wall and prayed that Sammy was still asleep.

"You will learn to give me the respect I deserve." The leather belt landed hard and Dean let out a little gasp. "I am the father here and my word is law." Again the leather struck and Dean hugged the wall a little tighter, trying to protect his face and stomach. "I will be the one to say when we are getting dinner," **WHAP** "and you will just shut up" **WHAP** "and. do. as. you're. told." Each of the last words were accented with another lash of the belt. Dean started to cry as John began to furiously lay into him. He lost count but he figured about 25 more lashes landed before John quit. Most of them landed on his back, but a couple hit his bare arms or wrapped around his side. At this point Dean was sobbing, "Please, sir, I'm sorry. Please stop. I promise I won't do it again. I'm sorry."

John kicked him in the gut "Get up and stop your sniveling. We need to go get your brother some supper." Dean then realized that Sammy was sitting in the bed sobbing and begging his dad to stop hurting "De". Before Dean could stop him, John walked over to Sammy and hit him hard enough to knock him off the bed. "Be quiet Sammy or you will be going hungry just like your brother."

"No! Sammy! Don't you dare hit my brother." Dean screamed at John as fresh tears began to fall at the thought of his poor, innocent little brother being hurt and not being able to do anything to stop it. John turned back to Dean and his eyes flicked black before the scene faded and Dean realized he was back in hell being tortured and the man standing before him was Alastair not John.

"Ha ha, did you enjoy that, Dean?" Alastair chuckled.

"What did you do, you bastard?" Dean choked out, still crying as images of little Sammy being hit and kicked and beaten with a belt kept flooding his mind. His back was still burning, and he figured the demon had somehow made everything that happened to him in the dream (or whatever the hell that was) happen to his body here in hell.

"Oh, I just looked through your memories a little and caused you to relive a particularly good one."

"You son of a bitch! That never happened. I would never have let Sammy be hurt like that! And our dad never abused us. He maybe never won father of the year, but he sure as hell never beat us." Dean was working hard to get his emotions back in check. As much as he knew it wasn't real, it sure had felt real and all the images flooding his mind right now sure seemed like real memories. And even though it wasn't real, he still hated to see his little brother, whom he was supposed to protect, in pain like that.

"Well, I might have added a few of my own touches." Alastair chuckled again. "Are you ready to accept my offer now? Or should I leave you with a few more 'memories'?"

"I told you, there is nothing you can do to me to make me accept your deal," Dean spat at him.

"Oh but there is plenty I can do to Sammy." The demon's maniacal laugh echoed in Dean's ears as he was left with only the images of little four year old Sammy being beaten and burned and abused in every way possible. Silent tears fell from Dean's eyes as each image seemed to be more real than the last.

**AN: Ok, tell me what you think! Is that what you were expecting? I love your reviews and they make me get the story out quicker! :)**


End file.
